


Dance with me

by Moondreamer



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Halamshiral, Solas damnit, smut & angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-12 03:08:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3341282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moondreamer/pseuds/Moondreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After everything is said and done, Solas and Lavellan have their dance, still high from the excitement of their evening in Halamshiral...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance with me

**Author's Note:**

> Well, first try at a Solavellan fic. I have so many feelz about those two, I can't even tell. I hope it's only the first of many fics for me. For now, I'm getting used to their voices, Solas especially. Hope you guys enjoy. I always appreciate comments and try to answer everyone of them ^_^

_The heady blend of power, intrigue, danger, and sex._

She hadn’t understood Solas’ meaning at the time. Halamshiral was such a disorienting place. Nothing, not even the banquets at Skyhold, had quite prepared her for the utter otherworldliness of the Winter Palace. Oh… How far had she wandered from the forests of her youth. When she’d first set foot in the palace garden wearing her formal Inquisition uniform—Vivienne had argued for gowns but had been overruled on the basis that Ellana and the other women needed to be able to fight if need be—she thought her heart might drop through her booted feet. It wasn’t until she stood in front of the Empress and announced to the entire court Florianne’s murderous intentions that she’d understood.

In that moment, she’d had them all eating off the palm of her hand. She could have had the Empress and courtiers alike kneel down for her if she’d so wished. She had caused a pretender to fall and a romance to reignite, all the while knowing full well that none of them really deserved her mercy. She’d showed them all!

Heady blend indeed. She had been drunk; drunk on the possibilities, on the scheming. She still felt more than a little light-headed as she leaned on the balcony railing, staring unblinking at the moonlit night. She took a deep breath, then a second one. With Morrigan leaving, she needed a moment alone, away from the glitter and madness of the grand ballroom.

“I’m not surprised to find you out here.” Solas’ voice startled her. She hadn’t heard him approach. She never did. He walked so lightly.

He went to lean on the railing beside her. “Thoughts?” he asked her.

She had to stop herself from grinning at him. It wouldn’t be proper considering the events of the last few hours. Instead, she came up with, “We achieved all our goals. I’m enjoying the moment of peace while it lasts.”

He smiled at her, as though he understood her state of mind. “You should. They’re fleeting enough.” 

His gloved hand on her back was enough to make her shiver in her need for more. “Hang on to them while you can,” he continued, seemingly oblivious to the heat creeping up her neck and cheeks.

The crowd inside started clapping, drawing Solas’ focus away from Ellana for a moment. She took that opportunity to try to regain her composure, and she took a shaky breath. Having Solas’ attention solely on her always left her feeling like she was about to drown in the blue of his eyes. It couldn’t be healthy, and yet she couldn’t seem to be able to stop herself. 

When he turned back to her, she was calm again. Mostly. “Come, before the band stops playing, dance with me!” he suddenly said, with an enthusiasm she hadn’t often heard coming from him. 

How could she refuse?

Ellana hesitated only a moment, before smiling and answering, “I’d love to.”

Solas caught her hand and twirled her to the middle of the balcony. Before she could regain her balance, he had slipped his other hand around the small of her back and started leading her into a slow waltz. The tension in her shoulders relaxed all at once. Moments of intimacy with Solas were few and far between, and she relished every one of them. 

“What did you think of the Game?” he asked after a few minutes.

“It was…” She hesitated, struggling for the right word to express her feelings. “...intoxicating,” she finally settled for.

Solas laughed softly. “I believe you enjoyed yourself tonight.”

Had she? She supposed she had, once she’d conquered her fears. “I was so nervous when we arrived that I thought I’d puke all over Grand Duke Gaspard’s shoes. Now _that_ would have been quite an entrance for the Inquisitor and her people.”

“That it would have.” Solas turned her around in his arms, leading her flawlessly through one of the dance’s most complicated moves—one Vivienne and Josephine had made her practice countless times in the last week without much success. Idly, Ellana wondered where an apostate mage from a small remote village had learned to dance. This, like so many other questions she had about him, stayed unanswered. 

“You played well, vhenan. Orlais will not soon forget the Dalish Inquisitor who beat them at their own Game.”

As always, the term of endearment lit something warm in Ellana’s chest. Add to it his compliment about her skills at the Game and she felt on top of the world. She grinned at him impishly. “I rather thought so myself. And you dance very well.”

Solas gave her a half-bow, a smile stretching his lips. “Thank you, my lady Inquisitor,” he said, mimicking the title pretty much everyone else gave her these days.

She made a face at him. Solas knew how much she hated that title. “You’re feeling playful tonight, Solas,” she teased back. “How much have you had to drink?” 

“Who says I am drunk?” He dipped her backward, sliding a leg between hers in a way that made her breath catch in her throat. She went with the movement, arching back until the only thing keeping her upright was Solas’ arms around her waist.

“You’re certainly enthusiastic,” she said when she could find her voice again. 

There usually was an air of aloofness about Solas, as though he tried his best to keep his distance from the rest of the world. The only time that reserve melted was while he lost himself in a kiss, which happened far too rarely to her taste. She wanted to see more of that side of him, that playfulness he engaged in too rarely.

“Is that a bad thing?” he replied, cocking an eyebrow at her.

Ellana ran her fingers down his cheek and neck, and smiled. “Definitely not a bad thing.” She wanted to kiss him. Badly. But she hesitated. Biting her lower lip, she fixed his mouth and wondered if she should or if it would somehow put an end to this moment. 

She didn’t quite know who—her or Solas—made the final step, but a moment later their lips met and he was cradling the back of her head to keep her in place. She parted her lips and slid her tongue out, uncertain. With a low groan, Solas opened up for her and their breaths mingled. They stopped dancing and simply swayed to the music coming from inside, too caught up in each other to do more.

“People might see us,” Ellana commented when she finally came up for air. Not that she really minded—let them gossip about the elven Inquisitor and her manservant!—but still felt the need to point it out.

“Mhmm,” Solas answered, a low rumble that sounded almost like a growl. It made her toes curl in her boots. “We are out of sight, vhenan.”

Surprised, Ellana realized that their dancing had brought them to one side of the balcony and they now stood conveniently hidden from view of the ballroom behind the tall potted plants. “Oh,” she murmured as Solas started kissing a path down her jaw, nipping ever so slightly at the corner of her chin.

_Creators._

She went to grab his shoulders as her knees felt strangely wobbly. Solas took that opportunity to crowd in closer, his lips never leaving her skin. Ellana took one step back and stopped, pressed against the wall with his hips grinding against hers in such lewd fashion she thought she might combust on the spot. The growing bulge of his erection was hard to miss in this position. He was aroused. Ellana already knew he hid a well of passion under all his restraint, but this was the first time she saw the extent of it and that knowledge thrilled her. 

Solas wanted her. _Her._ Ellana Lavellan.

“Solas,” she groaned, before grabbing the back of his head to bring his mouth to a position where she could kiss it to her heart’s content. She couldn’t get enough of the taste of him, that mix of elfroot, honeysuckle, and fade magic. A taste that was pure, unadulterated Solas.

When he brought his hands up to cup her cheeks—oh so tenderly—the warmth of his palms and his calloused fingers told her he’d taken off his gloves at some point. For the next few seconds, she fumbled around trying to get rid of her own gloves. That barrier between her hands and his skin was suddenly too much. She wanted them off! 

She grunted in triumph as she sent the second glove sailing over the railing, and spared an amused thought to the poor sod who would find it haphazardly discarded once the night was over. Finally, she could truly touch him, feel the smoothness of his skin and the play of muscles under his clothes. She ran her hand over his shoulders—broader than any other elf she’d met—and up his neck to lace her fingers behind his nape.

Solas was the one to break the kiss, sounding out of breath when he pressed his forehead against hers. “ _Din elvhen emma him,_ ” he whispered, voice hoarse. Already, his hands were traveling downward. When he reached her sash, he grunted in frustration, making Ellana grin.

“Problem?” she asked, just as winded as he was.

There was a pull on the sash, and then she felt it loosen and slip down her hips. “No. No problem,” he replied.

Ellana smiled, grabbed the pointy end of his hat, and threw it aside. It clanked as it hit the ground somewhere behind him. “There. I’ve been wanting to do this since I first saw you tonight. That hat looks ridiculous, Solas. Were you afraid your head would get cold while inside the palace?”

He laughed, ending in that little snort she found so endearing. “No, I did not.”

While they exchanged barbs, Solas hadn’t kept idle. Ellana realized as much when one of his hands slipped under her uniform jacket—he’d almost completely unbuttoned it from the bottom up—to curl around her waist. Breath left her lips in a silent “oh” at the contact on her bare skin. He leaned in to nip at the shell of her ear, drawing a startled yelp out of her. 

“You were glorious tonight, vhenan,” he murmured, his breath warm and muggy against her ear. “Watching you run circles around those nobles was… invigorating.”

Ellana felt herself blushing. She hadn’t realized Solas had been watching her this closely. “Hmm… you’re welcome?” she finally replied, not sure what else to say. 

“Can you keep quiet?” he then asked her. 

The sudden change of subject made Ellana frown. She pulled back to give him a falsely insulted look. “Of course. I’m a hunter. I can be quiet as the dead.”

“Good.”

The wicked look that entered his eyes at that moment left her wondering what she’d just agreed to. She cleared her throat. “Solas?”

He nibbled at her earlobe, before he said, “Then remember to stay quiet. There are still people dancing inside.” 

She bit on her lower lip, shuddering as his hands slowly dipped below her waist line, his touch light as feathers along her hip bone. He couldn’t be planning to— 

_Fenedhis._

She gasped, caught between shock and arousal as his fingers slipped passed the hemline of her trousers and smallclothes. He cupped her mound and then stopped, his fingers making themselves right at home on each side of her folds while he watched her reaction. The left corner of his lips twisted slightly. She glared back at him. Was he finding her amusing? He had his hand in her trousers, for Creators’ sake! There was nothing amusing about the situation, especially as he wasn’t moving his hand an inch lower, to where her clit throbbed for attention.

“Solas.” She all but choked on his name.

“Yes?”

He was waiting, the bastard. Waiting for what, Ellana wasn’t quite sure. Her permission? If it was so, he had it. She was more than willing. “Dread Wolf take you, move your hand,” she ground out.

“Mhmm…” That low rumble again. “Like this?” One long finger slid into her wetness and trailed back across her clit. The touch was barely there, and yet she nearly jumped out of her skin.

Ellana grabbed his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his uniform. She grinded her hips into his hand. She wanted more. Needed it. At this point, not having more would drive her insane.

“More?” Solas asked, as though reading her thoughts.

“Stop teasing me!”

He chuckled. “ _Ma nunevin._ ” He pushed one long finger inside her, his thumb starting to rub on one side of her clit. She was already swollen from her arousal and he felt bigger than he should have. She swallowed the moan that was threatening to escape her lips. Quiet. She had to be quiet, or someone would hear them and come investigating. Her head swam with another rush of arousal. The idea of being found out in this position both terrified and left her desperate for more of Solas’ touch.

Then he started moving his finger in and out, curling the tip toward her stomach so that he hit a particularly sensitive spot with each pass, and all thoughts fled her mind. His thumb played a sensuous dance on her clit that made the rest of the world recede until it ceased to exist. Warmth pooled deep in her stomach, a low flame fanned by his fingers.

But it wasn’t quite enough. She started to wriggle her hips, pushing into his hand, while her lips searched for his so she could drown her moans in his kiss. Their mouths met in a clashing of teeth and furious passion. She bit on his lower lip, wrenching a groan out of him. He retaliated by pushing a second finger inside her, and the added fullness made her gasp and release him.

“No biting,” he chided her, sounding more amused than annoyed.

She wanted to pout at him, but her aggravation was short lived. When he quickened his pace, his thumb rubbing and pressing on her clit in turn, it was all she could do to not scream her mounting pleasure to the winds. As it was, she mewled and swallowed her moans, closing her eyes tightly shut, her muscles shaking with the effort. She was so… so close.

“Open your eyes,” he said just as she thought she couldn’t bare his touch a second more. “I want to look at them as you come.”

His words were her downfall. Her eyes snapped open at the same moment as orgasm ripped through her senses, carrying everything with it. His mouth crashed on hers, muffling the scream she hadn’t been able to suppress. Blue eyes bored into her, as though Solas wanted to miss nothing of her unravelling in his arms.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, her trembling subsided. _Creators_. She never thought anyone could bring her to climax using only their fingers, and in a place like the Winter Palace—where anyone could have walked in on them—to boot. “Solas,” she croaked, voice breathy and still shuttering.

The kiss he placed on her lips then was achingly tender. “Ellana,” he answered, smiling crookedly.

Sweat sheened on his brow and Ellana realized with a jolt that, of the two of them, she was the only one to have taken her pleasure. It had to be mightily uncomfortable for him, as she still felt the hot thrust of his erection against her hip. “Let me,” she mumbled, reaching for his belt. Her still shaky fingers fumbled with the buckle and she frowned in irritation. Why wouldn’t it—

“Inquisitor?”

Ellana froze as she heard the voice and Solas shifted his weight, shielding her from view of the woman who’d just stepped on the balcony. Josephine. The youngest of Ellana’s advisor couldn’t have chosen a worse moment to look for her.

“Morrigan said you would be here. Empress Celene has—” Josephine’s sentence ended in a stutter as she caught sight of them. Ellana could imagine the blush coming to Josephine’s cheek and the woman quickly turning her back to them. “Oh my… I am… should I come back later?”

Ellana bit her lower lip to stop the laughter bubbling in her throat when Solas groaned and hid his face in the crook of his shoulder. This was getting ridiculous. “No, no, Josephine. It’s all right. We were…” She trailed off. There was no way she could explain her dishevelled, half undressed, state as being anything other than what it looked like. “What did Celene want?” As she spoke, she hurried to close her trouser and put some order to her clothes.

“We have been offered rooms in the guest wing for the night,” Josephine explained. “In thanks for what the Inquisition has done for Orlais.” Ellana could have sworn amusement edged the advisor’s tone, although she was much too polite to directly comment on the situation.

“Very kind of her,” Ellana muttered, her mind already calculating the time it would take for her to lead Solas to the guest wing so they could continue what they’d started.

“When you are ready, come find me. I will be with my sister,” Josephine added, before quickly retreating back inside.

Ellana turned her attention back to Solas, a quip on her lips about the interruption, but it died on her lips when she saw his expression. Somehow, in the twenty second it had taken Josephine to deliver her message, he had returned to his usual stoic self. “Solas,” she said, uncertain.

“You might be right. I drank more than is wise,” he replied after a few seconds. He inclined his head at her and took a step back. he went to cross his hands behind his back, in that way she knew all too well. Their moment of intimacy was over. “Please forgive me. It won’t happen again.”

She waved his apology aside. She hadn’t minded. Far from it. “Come back to my room with me?” She hated that she had made it a question. She had wanted to demand him that he come with her, but she’d never been able to command him to do anything he didn’t want to do. Not her Solas. 

A smile ghosted across his lips. “You tempt me, but it would not be wise. Let’s not mar your victory here tonight with gossips of your bedding your elven manservant.”

“I don’t care about the gossip,” she replied tartly. Considering the time they’d spent alone on the balcony, rumors would be flying around Halamshiral by morning anyway. And she couldn’t care less about them.

“But many will,” he replied with regret. He was pulling away from her. Again. She could have screamed. “Sweet dreams, vhenan,” he finished, so softly she could barely catch his words.

He walked back inside, leaving Ellana alone to pout at his back. “I swear some night I’ll hunt you down in the Fade and make you pay for all those times you hung me up to dry,” she grumbled. “Just you wait.”

She got no answer.


End file.
